Soundtrack to the Apocalypse

We don't have much time. On December 21st, the world as we know it will end in a catastrophic series of events leading to the downfall of the planet. It's already started: Gangnam Style is about to reach one billion views on YouTube, LeBron James has finally been named the NBA's season MVP, the Twilight Saga has run out of films and the All Blacks lost the other week. Since there's clearly nothing we can do about it, you might as well listen to some music as it happens. Here are a few suggestions:

For People with an Unoriginal Sense of Humour:

AC/DC: Highway to Hell

The most popular funeral song of all time, this might be funny if it weren't such a worn-out idea. Frankly, the idea of listening to Australia's least creative, most generic rock band at the end of it all isn't all that appealing anyway, but that hasn't stopped thousands of people so far.

For Those with a Slightly More Original Sense of Humour

R.E.M.: It's the End of the World as we Know It

The Seattle-based group's environmentalist warning may be slightly preachy in the verses, but the chorus provides an anthem of sorts for people looking to see things out with something resembling a campfire singalong.

Going with a Bang

Skrillex: Kill Everybody

Sonny Moore's pulsating dubstep beats are about as close as music gets to recreating the end of creation. This early track is lyrically appropriate for any post-apocalyptic rave while, if played loud enough, the bass frequencies should tune into the sound of the planet tearing in half.

Going with a Whimper

Sigur Rós: Svefn - G - Englar

A sublime piece of sonic craftsmanship from north of the Arctic Circle. Warm and ethereal, this song is the one to choose if you feel like drifting away rather than exploding.

For Those Who Want to Listen to an Album

Soundgarden: Superunknown

Of all the alternative rock albums released in the '90s, none captured the paranoia and apathy of its generation-X listeners quite like Soundgarden's magnum opus. A devestatingly brutal portrait of a society on the brink of collapse, leading to ultimate self-destruction. Some nice guitar solos too.

In Case Superunknown Finishes Before it's all Over

Massive Attack: Mezzanine

The Bristol trip-hop collective's 1997 work is thematically similar to Superunknown, offering a distinctly British spin on urban decay and rising crime levels in their home city. Don't be fooled by the angelic Teardrop, this is one seriously dark album. Also it's fairly front-weighted so if the end comes unexpectedly early you'll have already heard most of the good stuff.

If It's all Getting a Bit Much

Rabbit J: Happy Things

There's some weighty material on this list, so you may feel the need for a dose of sunny Korean cabaret pop. Or even if you don't, this video is essential viewing for the end of days in that it allows you to forget whatever might be going on at the time by way of sheer charm.

The Disturbing Coincidence

Rebecca Black: Friday

December 21st is a Friday. In this satirical portrayal of a totalitarian, post-apocalyptic society, a young girl finds her daily routine strictly regulated ("gotta have my bowl, gotta have cereal"), struggles to fit into the brave new world ("which seat can I take?") and offers a warning to the world in the chorus. "Gotta get down on Friday" clearly refers to taking cover in the midst of a revelatory event. And yet no-one heeded Rebecca Black's words, because they were too busy shredding her video in the YouTube comments section. I'd say she deserved it.

The Song that Caused it All

PSY: Gangnam Style

At this point in time, no video has registered 1,000,000,000 views on YouTube. At the current rate, the Korean dance track might just reach the landmark by the end of the week. According to a 100% genuine Nostradamus prophecy:

"From the calm morning, the end will come, when of the dancing horse, the number of circles will be nine."

"Calm morning" referring to the sun emblem on the South Korean flag, "dancing horse" being PSY's horse-riding dance and "nine circles" matching up to the nine zeros in the view counter.

Yes, this was written retroactively to sound real but the idea is so blatantly ridiculous that no one took it seriously, except for a large part of the internet population. Not much hope for us either way, it would seem.

The Song for all of Humanity

Electric Light Orchestra: Mr. Blue Sky

If, once all of these options are exhausted, the world finds itself in silence, there really is only one song that can be played. Mr. Blue Sky is one of those songs that cannot fail to make anyone who hears it happy. And why not face the last judgement with a smile on your face, remembering the good times you got to have while you were here? This video features clips from David Lynch's Eraserhead, a film that taught us not to fear the end of the world, because in heaven, everything is fine.

See you on the other side!

TJGreenwood.

Part 3: The Best Spy Film of All Time and other Cultural Learnings of Germany

First of all I would like to thank everyone who has been reading so far - from the two people in Ukraine who presumably had no idea what I was on about, to the five who somehow accessed my blog using a Deep Web browser. Sorry, no guns or drugs on sale here...

I wrote my last entry having just spent a week in Berlin and much has happened since then. For the end of the Autumn holiday, I headed home to see the parents and my friends and girlfriend at Warwick.

Also, some guy from the Junior Apprentice

And then, having returned to Bedburg after a 45 minute flight (good work Ryanair), the real teaching began. I felt as though I'd only just got started before the break, so was looking forward to getting into the flow of things now. My conclusion? I'll never be a teacher. Not that I can't pass on knowledge - I taught a class how to start a conversation recently and the group definitely seemed to come away having learned a few phrases. But standing in front of a group of teenagers for 45 minutes at a time, several times a day, is hardly my idea of fun. As it is, I don't have to do that and being a language assistant is, for the most part, fun. This is especially true with older classes, where you can actually discuss things with pupils instead of saying a sentence in English and then having to repeat it in German because half the class didn't understand. Discipline is also an issue in the younger groups. I always found it easy to control kids as a lifeguard when I had a whistle and a clear set of rules defining what was and wasn't allowed, but in a classroom it's just not as clear cut as that. Take for instance, the lad in the front row of one of the classes I teach alone who will not stop talking... in English. Should I tell him to shut up for disrupting the class? I feel as though that would suppress his love and talent - and he is genuinely talented - for speaking and wanting to practice a foreign language. And it feels so mean spirited stopping kids having fun in my lessons. Yesterday, one boy informed me that his friend "likes to look at porn," and rather than telling him off for being inappropriate I couldn't help but laugh and correct him: "no, you watch porn." Similarly, instead of telling another student to take his hat off in class, I took issue with the fact that it promoted the Oakland Raiders.

An actual Raiders fan.

And then told him to take it off.

In short, while I do enjoy teaching at times, it's not the life for me.

In other news, I turned 21 a few days ago, and celebrated with a few friends in Essen before being greeted at school on the day by my mentor teacher with a cake. My host family also came out with a pair of new jumpers and a Thai meal, while even the neighbours chipped in with some small gifts: popcorn Milka may be shockingly unhealthy, but it is also amazing. Ultimately, I felt as though this was a good indication of how well I've settled into life here, although I have to say I would never have thought I'd spend my 21st in small-town Germany teaching English!

Most recently, last weekend was the official opening of the Cologne Karneval - basically an excuse for 100,000 people to descend on the city centre in fancy dress and drink beer all day while some of the most German music ever written is played out on a stage by musicians who have passed into local legend. For the locals, these songs are as ingrained in their culture as the Beatles are in ours, with Viva Colonia being a kind of national anthem of Cologne. For me, it was an excuse to see friends from whom I've felt a bit isolated out here in the sticks and get to know the city a bit better. Apparently the main Karneval in February is ten times the size - ie. a million people attending - so that could well be the highlight of my year.

And so life continues. I've finally made it to the gym and hope to keep that up. The football is improving, and I now have seven goals in four games playing with the teachers, which is as many as Emile Heskey scored in 62 appearances for England. And I have seen what I am sure is the best spy film of this or in fact any year: Agent Ranjid rettet die Welt.

An IMDb rating of 3.3 for this masterpiece is a disgrace.

On top of it all, my German has indeed improved, and I can now watch South Park or Family Guy in German as if they were in English, which had always been my benchmark in terms of listening fluency. Speaking isn't quite at the same level yet, but I've got the whole year for that!

Seriously though, Skyfall  has nothing on this:

TJGreenwood.

The Difficult Second Post

It has been a while since I last posted on here, so a mid-term update seems in order. Much has indeed happened since I arrived in Bedburg, the general nature of which I will now proceed to outline:

Leaving The Bubble

Much like the campus of Warwick University, the town of Bedburg can induce something of a bubble effect on the inhabitant. Faced with all necessary services within walking distance and limited outbound transport options, it can be all too easy to stay in one place, not realising that there is a whole foreign country outside to be exploring. Escape came in the form of an invite to  a birthday party for my coursemate Louise in the north of my state, a mere three-hour train ride away in Recklinghausen. It was definitely worthwhile - after catching up with some people I met at Altenberg over a few drinks, we hit the town to head to a club with a suspect reputation and questionable moral principles. As it turned out, it wasn't that bad - certainly nicer than anything Bedford has to offer - and save for the advances on the female members of our group by some Russian lads, a good night was had by all.

Any club that plays Gangnam Style can't be all bad: simultaneously the best and worst song of all time.

The weekend opened my eyes to the fact that I can get out of Bedburg as long as I make an effort, and I resolved to accept any invitation that came my way.

Shortly after, I was summoned to Cologne by my regional co-ordinator for a meeting between all language assistants in the area. We discussed how things were going, and she gave us advice on how to make the most of our time spent in school. Hearing how others were faring, it seems like I've had a pretty easy run of it - some people were still yet to find long term accommodation or be properly introduced to their colleagues. I decided that living in a small town might not be such a bad thing after all. Anyway, at least the British Council are looking after us, reimbursing our travel costs to Cologne and providing a serious selection of cakes.

After this, life continued as normal. I received my first pay package, sorted out my Erasmus grant and opened my international scoring account at a football session for disadvantaged youths in the area, having tagged along with one of the girls I live with, who is volunteering there for her Abitur.

It looked something like this.

Berlin

So armed with my new frontier mentality, I jumped on the chance to get to Berlin in the first week of my autumn holiday, joining a group of language assistants from Nordrhein-Westfalen who, like me, were looking to get out of their smaller towns.

This introduced me to the bizarre but brilliant world of long-distance car sharing, or Mitfahrgelegenheit, a scheme whereby you pay a stranger to drive you from one place to another. While it might sound like a haven for murderers and kidnappers, it is in fact a legitimate and established scheme, and apparently the norm for travelling cross-country in Germany, often for a quarter of the price of a train. My ride there was Dzelal, a stylish and friendly Balkan who tore up the Autobahn in his black BMW while blasting an excellent range of hip hop from his sound system. He even took me to the front door of my hostel. On the way back I was with Ango, a West African man with a van who seemed to make a living out of car sharing alone, and who paid for my train ticket from Düsseldorf when he decided I would be too late getting home from Cologne. When looking to get around Germany, I can only recommend it.

The drive from east to west is an experience in itself - open fields and industry one minute, until you cross the border into Brandenburg and find yourself in the Soviet Union: dark, cold forest littered with the (literally) concrete reminders that this was a communist bloc nation less than 25 years ago.

Fig. 1: an actual field in West Germany

Fig. 2: Somewhere in East Germany, probably.

We had been told at university that the two halves of the country still faced economic and social divisions, but the reality is amazingly obvious - the former Democratic Republic clearly has a lot of catching up to do.

Berlin itself was as good as I remembered from my previous visit, although the entire population now seems to be Australian for some reason. We took the walking tour, visited the DDR museum and spent a day at Sachsenhausen concentration camp, a truly humbling experience made even more unsettling by the presence of the first ever gas ovens and Dr. Josef Mengele (if you're having a good day so far, DO NOT google that name). We also sampled the Berlin nightlife, on one occasion staying at the Matrix club, located in a disused underground station, until past 5 am. Otherwise guided by our resident Australian Geordie, who had lived in Berlin a few years previously, we sampled local bars and pubs, which were decent despite sometimes wandering around searching in vain for places that had been good a few years previously. I was also rewarded with a new favourite beer, the distinctly non-German Sapporo. All in all, an enjoyable week spent in great company!

In the middle of all of this, I've also taught some kids some English. But that can wait for a later post.

TJGreenwood.

Reviews, September 2012

Red Hot Chili Peppers – ‘Magpies on Fire’, ‘Victorian Machinery’, ‘Strange Man’ and ‘Long Progression’

By Tim Greenwood, published on 12 September 2012 03:57 pm

Fresh off the back of their 2011 album I’m With You, Red Hot Chili Peppers have now announced a string of singles in quick succession, beginning with this pair of double A-sides. The main problem that arises is how to perceive these 18 new tracks – collectively as an album, or one by one as they arrive? Their purpose is equally confused: should they be seen as a bridge to the next album, or (more likely) tunes that didn’t make the cut forI’m With You? Or, indeed, simply an attempt to continue milking the cash cow of a band who are less and less relevant on the grand musical scale? It’s hard not to be cynical when faced with such a move, until you remember that the Chili Peppers used to spend up to five years preparing new releases, mainly as a result of frequent conflicts withing the group. With this new development, perhaps fans could dare to hope for a more prolific band in future.

In any case, they present us here with four tight, neatly-written but ultimately unexciting songs. ‘Victorian Machinery’ begins with a promising clanking percussion line giving way to churning guitar in the kind of time signature that would make the best of drummers feel faint. Yet all too soon it drops into the mellow, jangling guitar-and-vocals sound that have typified pretty much every song on their last three releases. ‘Strange Man’ is more atmospheric but basically reverses the pattern, with a poppier verse followed by a soft chorus. ‘Long Progression’ contains a number of well-structured vocal harmonies but really could be any other song written by the foursome in the past 13 years. ‘Magpies on Fire’, then, stands out from the crowd as the most coherent and soulful tune, with new recruit Josh Klinghoffer‘s chiming guitar sound blending with Michael ‘Flea’ Balzary‘s crawling bassline, almost making up for the departure of John Frusciante. All in all, these are four nice enough tracks, but that’s the problem – at their prime, Red Hot Chili Peppers were, quite simply, the best, combining one of the all-time great rhythm sections with passionate songwriting and hyperactive inventiveness. Sure, they’ve done a lot of growing up since the early 1990s, but at the same time their sound has lost the sense of fun that defined them as a group.

So while these new releases certainly aren’t bad songs, they’re not all that special either; borne of undeniable musical talent but lacking in any real excitement. They carry the band’s trademark sound but do not make any forward progress with it, instead falling back on what has gone before.  It’s a painfully obvious pun to make, but the Red Hot Chili Peppers have definitely lost some of their heat.

6/10

@TimGreenwood2

Slipknot – Antennas to Hell

By Tim Greenwood, published on 18 August 2012 09:47 am

For a band of nameless, faceless Iowans sporting nightmarish masks straight out of a horror film,Slipknot have experienced a surprising level of mainstream success over the course of their career. Notorious for their brutal sound and manic live performances, the group have courted with their fair share of controversy, with lyrics being linked to a fatal school shooting in 2003, to a grave robbing in 2006, and then again to a murder in South Africa in 2008. For their part, the band maintained that their music carried a favourable message, a beacon of hope for disillusioned, isolated youths in the uncaring and unsupporting western world. Antennas to Hell compiles the best of that music, and throughout the progression of its 19 tracks, it is hard to see the positivity supposedly inherent in the music or lyrics. What does become evident, however, is just how revolutionary the group have been over the past decade.

Antennas to Hell encapsulates the evolution of Slipknot – beginning with a collection of sparse, frantic thrash numbers from their self-titled debut, progressing through more coherent metal, and concluding with the songs that made them famous. ‘Duality’, ‘Vermillion’, ‘Psychosocial’ and ‘Before I Forget’ are all present and correct, a string of chart hits that sealed the band’s position among the greats of modern metal. More interesting, however, are the earlier tracks. From the opening ‘(sic)’ to a live recording of ‘The Heretic Anthem’, these tunes provide a voracious bedrock of sound; channelling all the rage and pain that made Slipknot so accessible to millions of moody, repressed teenagers in small-town America. Listening to the desperate howls of vocalist Corey Taylor and the furious drumming of Joey Jordison mixing with Jim Roots‘ twisted guitar riffs, it becomes startlingly clear why a whole generation decided to tap into that sound as a release from the real-world problems that hounded them. It’s tight, it’s fast and it’s fierce: contention over the lyrics aside, Slipknot were an unarguably talented band and while their influence can be heard all over the modern metal scene, it is true that no one else sounds quite like them. Easy listening it isn’t, but that was never the point.

If you are new to Slipknot, or 21st-century metal in general, this greatest hits album is the place to start. If you are a long-time fan of the group, the special edition is worth considering for a live recording of their 2009 Download Festival performance and DVD containing their music video back catalogue.

8/10

Album Review: Noisettes - Contact

by Tim Greenwood
at University of Warwick17th September 2012 12:08:39

  

3/5

It has been three years since the Noisettes stuck gold with hit single Don't Upset the Rhythm. They return with new album, Contact, minus a member and attempting to build on their success with a wider musical palette and the same sense of adventure that has maintained them thus far.

The Noisettes are a classic example of the 'I liked them before they sold out for fame' band. It doesn't seem to be widely known, but their debut came not in 2009 but rather in 2007 with the garage punk album What's the Time Mr. Wolf? It was a magnificent first effort, filled with frantic, thrashing rock tunes and the feral howling of singer Shingai Shoniwa standing out in particular. And no one paid it much attention.

Undeterred, the group attempted a foray into the mainstream two years on and it worked -Don't Upset the Rhythm was so far removed from their earlier work that it sounded like a different band entirely. But the new formula was a success: the single reached number two in the UK chart and the subsequent album Wild Young Hearts itself entered the top 10. Ultimately, though, it felt as though the trio had simply dumbed down their original sounds in favour of something more radio-friendly: Wild Young Hearts was not a particularly strong album.

Their latest release, however, is somewhat better. Having dropped drummer Jamie Morrisson, they are no longer really a band, but rather a songwriting duo who rely more on orchestral arrangements and backing musicians than their own individual skills. This is no bad thing - Contact kicks off with a introduction straight out of a film score before segueing into the '70s disco stomp of I Want You Back, which contains an undeniably catchy, singalong chorus.

From there, we are presented with a veritable collage of sounds, stretching beyond the realm of pop music, seemingly into as many genres as the pair can conceive. This happens often within the same song: Travelling Light begins as a piano ballad and ends with a soft dubstep beat, while Let the Music Play is glittering pop with a motown interlude.

Yet for all their experimentation, the Noisettes sound at their best when being truly coherent. That Girl is a genuinely well-written song that would not have sounded out of place in the 1950s, and the folksy Ragtop Car is perhaps the album's prettiest moment. Which presents a paradox: most of the album's appeal is in its experimental side, but this is in conflict with the duo's attempts to craft smooth, well-rounded pieces of music. The result is unfortunate - too many of the tracks descend into repetitve, mid-tempo disco beats, and it feels as though the work has run its course before its conclusion.

While there are indeed positives here - Shoniwa's voice, in particular, has lost none of its flair - Contact feels like a missed opportunity. If the Noisettes could only ignore mainstream expectations, they have the potential to create some of the most original music of recent times. As it stands, they have offered up a competent but uninspiring work that in the end is a victim of its own self-consciousness.

Album Review: Dan le Sac - Space Between the Words

by Tim Greenwood
at University of Warwick17th August 2012 12:05:44

  

4/5
Space Between the Words is not a cheerful album. From the opening bars of the terse Long Night of Life, as folk singer Merz calls out "life gets tired of living/devoid of light," it is clear that the Essex-based producer is aiming somewhere between the bleak sound of '80s indie and dingy urban electronica.
And to his credit, the mix is just about right. The beats grind away in the background but never quite overpower the sparse, ethereal instrumentation. The largely obscure guest vocalists, including Sarah Williams White, Joshua Idehen and Pete Hefferan, each add their own style to their respective tracks, leading to a vague narrative structure as they reappear at various points.
Musically, Space Between the Words is more accessible than Dan le Sac's previous work, his abrasive keyboard bleeps of former albums replaced by a more fluid sound in the mould of liquid dubstep. Think Magnetic Man, only slightly more introverted.
This, then, is not a dance album for the clubs, but rather one that is intended to be appreciated on a more cerebral level, to be played in full without interruption or distraction and preferably on a well-specced sound system. It's grimy, intense music - not catchy in the slightest, and not at all ashamed of it. For those who enjoy the album, this will its main appeal - it does not fall back on what has gone before, but rather moves on, drawing on its influences and then updating and expanding them.
Highlights include the minimalist Breathing Underwater, an electro-folk dirge featuring Fraser Rowan and a surging string arrangement; Good Time Gang War, a B.Dolan grime collaboration that threatens a dubstep drop but instead teases the listener with lurching house beats; and the glorious closer Cherubs, the standout track on the album, perfectly pitched between late Radiohead and Morrissey's sombre ballads.
Ultimately, while Space Between the Words may lack the brilliantly poetic and philosophical lyrics of Dan le Sac's work with Scroobius Pip, it does make up for this with a subtler musical approach and more polished production values. It's unlikely to be the soundtrack to your summer, but instead will endure as a slick, brooding work of modern electronica.

Life in Das Vaterland

After 10 years of foreign language study, the time has come for me to live the dream - to put my skills to their best possible use and head off to a faraway, exotic land free from the rain, traffic, moaning, rain, economic crisis and rain of the UK. With that in mind, I seem to have landed in a place closer to my front door than Scotland, and with almost identical weather patterns and industry. Even the names match - from Bedford to Bedburg. Oh, and I'll be teaching English. No matter, the fact is I'm now in Germany and ready to make the most of

a) actually earning money in exchange for not having to study for a while 

and

b) making the most of 9 months on the continent, seeing new places, meeting new people and experiencing all that the Federal Republic has to offer!

The trip began at the end of August as I departed from Stansted with my dad to look for a place to live in Cologne, a Rhine city that, despite huge residential areas, offered up nothing. Next stop was Bergheim to pursue an internet offer that also came to nothing. Faced with this adversity, I determinedly gave up looking and emailed the teacher who would be in charge of me to ask if there was anything going in Bedburg. Luckily there was, so on September 1st I headed to Bedburg to see the school's presentation day and meet the family whose loft I would be inhabiting for at least a while.

From there it was onward to Altenberg, the former monastery that hosted a training week for all language assistants in Nordrhein-Westfalen, Niedersachen, Bremen and the Saarland. It presented a chance to get to know the fellow students who would be in my proximity for the next year, so predictably the 20 or so of us from Warwick all stuck together from the beginning.

That said, the course itself was surprisingly enjoyable, providing us with a basis in how to lead a class, what German students could expect from us and giving advice in how to survive out here. On the 3rd day we gave a sample lesson on extreme sports and I was told that despite my tendency to fiddle with a pen while talking, I managed well. Aside from that I sampled various varieties of German beer (at €1.50 a pint, how could I not?), inhaled enough 2nd-hand smoke that I would probably have been better off smoking, put in a reasonable juggling performance in the last-night talent show, and exchanged cultural ideas with a group of Canadians on how "Canadian football is like, totally better than American football, eh?!"

Fig. 1: one of the sports.

Fig. 2: the other one.

Altenberg was fun, then, but all too soon it was time to face reality and head to the school where I would be working. And so, on a grey Thursday morning, on the back of 5 hours' sleep and no shower, I was greeted at Bedburg station by Frau Bielert and thrown straight into a meeting with the headmaster. It was here that German efficiency came into play, as he processed the mountains of paperwork concerning me in a matter of minutes, before sending me to the Anmeldeamt to register as a citizen and then Sparkasse bank to set up an account. 

The next day I was in again at 7.50 AM to experience a working day at the school, sitting in on lessons in German, Religious Studies and History, where the origin of World War I was taught with the kind of neutrality I would expect from a country that is never afraid to acknowledge their past.

But this wasn't really why I was here, so on Tuesday I got my first taste of Oberstufe English, the highest level in German schools. No problem, I told myself, an introduction followed by some conversation work and oh dear God they're doing Shakespeare. In English. Not at all modernised or watered down. So, it seems the A-level in English Lit-Lang will have to be brought into play over the coming weeks as rather than correcting grammar or pronunciation mistakes I will instead have to explain the difference between a metaphor and an analogy to an 18-year-old German whose technical knowledge of English is probably better than my own.

Not to worry though, because it has been for the most part fun. I'd honestly forgotten the atmosphere of a sixth-form classroom, a place where for the first time people come together as a group who actually care about what they're learning, and where teachers stop being disciplinarians and start coming into their own. It's a sense of anticipation, of excitement for what lies ahead. Listening to this lot enthusiastically acting out Romeo and Juliet, I was reminded of myself as a fresh-faced languages student halfway through Year 12, the moment when I realised that carrying it on to university might actually work for me. And work it has - thanks to the fact I chose to learn languages, I have, in two weeks abroad, begun my international football career alongside a group of teachers, spent two hours eating piles of food off a barbecue on a Saturday afternoon, agreed to become a gym buddy once my salary turns up and eaten bratwurst with potatoes and sauerkraut, and it was actually pretty good.

The food of kings.

All in all, it makes for an impressively long blog post. And this is only the beginning...

TJGreenwood.

5 Bands That Were Just Too Talented For Their Own Good

Everyone has time for a talented musician. It's the reason classical music is still a global industry, the reason an old, formerly homeless man became huge, and the reason why, 35 years after his death, people still consider Elvis to be one of the all-time greats. But with great power comes great responsibility, and sometimes artists can let their talent get ahead of them. Here are 5 bands that were too good for their own good:

5. The Who

The Who were comprised of four of the greatest musicians of their time. Keith Moon remains the most mentalistic drummer ever to set foot onstage; often imitated, never bettered. Pete Townsend was an absurdly acrobatic guitarist, leaping around while windmilling his arms furiously to create his own unique, crashing, chordal style. John Entwhistle was every inch the professional bassist, underpinning the chaos with calm and focus. And in front of it all was one of the all-time great frontmen, Roger Daltrey. With so much to offer, surely they couldn't go wrong?

Why It Didn't Work

OK, so The Who did end up being one of the biggest bands on the planet. But for all their musical prowess and showmanship, it was always clear that they weren't the strongest songwriters out there. All too often when playing live, the group simply descended into trying to outdo each other in terms of who could play the fastest or loudest. Their most famous song, My Generation, for all its raging adolescent subversion, is ultimately just two chords with a bass solo slapped in the middle and the same goes for Magic Bus, I Can See For Miles and Won't Get Fooled Again, three of their biggest hits. Watch this live James Brown cover - complex it isn't:

4. Led Zeppelin

Led Zeppelin were everything The Who were, only stepped up a level. For a start, this was not a group of childhood friends who had shared a joint love of music from the beginning. The four components of the band actually assembled from all over the country, drawn together by the fact that they were already established among the best in their field. Jimmy Page was the young guitar genius from The Yardbirds, John-Paul Jones was a session bassist, John Bonham a freelance drummer with the power of an iron foundry. Robert Plant is just as famous a frontman as Daltrey, with the distinction that he was a uniquely talented singer.

Why It Didn't Work

The Who may have been average songwriters, but once again Led Zeppelin were one step ahead - they didn't bother writing songs at all. Of the 9 tracks on their self titled debut, 3 are covers of Willie Nelson blues tunes. Which would be fine, were it not for the fact that the band claimed the songs as their own, listing themselves as writers and subsequently taking all royalties. This trend continued for another three albums before they finally came up with an original idea. But these songs are simple 12-bar blues pieces, right? No one can copyright those, they're a staple of music; and after all, Led Zeppelin's versions are pretty different to the originals. True, but that doesn't account for the various other songs they outright stole from contemporaries and tried to list as their own creations. It's frustrating more than anything else, especially since, once they stopped resting on their laurels, they wrote some of the best rock songs of all time:

3. Oysterhead

Formed in 2000, Oysterhead were the archetypal constructed supergroup. Bassist Les Claypool had recently disbanded Primus, alternative heroes of the '90s, and agreed on a new project following prompting from his record label. He picked out guitarist Trey Anastasio from psychedelic jam-band Phish and Stewart Copeland, the drummer from The Police. The trio agreed to a one-off show before recording an album, 2001's The Grand Pecking Order. Such a fusion of skill has never really been seen in music before or since - Claypool ranks among the best bassists of all time, Anastasio has a seemingly infinite prowess for improvisation across a range of genres, and Copeland had years of experience as a member of one of the most technically precise groups in music history. And unlike The Who or Led Zeppelin, the band did contain proven songwriters.

Why It Didn't Work

Claypool kind of dropped the ball here. The Grand Pecking Order was actually a fantastic album and, while it wasn't the most accessible music out there, the band gained a devoted following among fans of alternative music, and toured the US in 2001. But Claypool can be something of a lone wolf at times - after all, he quit Metallica in the 1980s because he felt they weren't allowing him enough creative freedom - and the same applied here. As a bassist, he has been the central figure of each of his projects, with the other musicians complementing him rather than the other way around. But Oysterhead was the first time his bandmates matched his talent, and that wasn't the ideal working environment for Claypool. The tragic reality was that Claypool is only satisfied when pushing his boundaries to the limit, and Oysterhead never really provided that. It's clear how unhappy he is in this live performance, and that pretty much sealed Oysterhead's fate:

2. Tool

Tool would at first glance seem to be the most coherent act on this list. They seem to get on well with each other, they've been honing their skills for over 20 years now, and their music just takes everything that has come before to the next level. Blending some of the most technically perfect western alternative rock with the scale structures and cyclical systems of oriental music, the band really do sound like no one else. The level of precision with which guitarist Adam Jones and bassist Justin Chancellor match each other's playing is genuinely mind-blowing - it's as if their minds are telepathically linked. With all this on offer, how can there possibly be anything wrong with Tool's music?

Why It Didn't Work

When a band goes up to six years between album releases, it's clear that they are going to have a lot of time on their hands. But that's true of the Red Hot Chili Peppers as well, and they come nowhere near to ridiculous level of detail employed by Tool in their latest releases. A simple one to start off with: the 11 tracks on their 2006 album 10,000 Days are arranged in clear groups - singles, existentialist meditation, a tale of alien abduction and a eulogy to singer Maynard Keenan's recently deceased mother (who had been paralyzed for 20 years, or approximately 10,000 days). This is all very well, but at the end comes four minutes of electronic noise entitled Viginti Tres. It doesn't work on its own but when combined with the 11-minute 10,000 Days, it matches up with the drone bass of that track. Add in the other eulogy song, Wings for Marie, and the result is a whole new track. The latter two songs synchronise perfectly at 9 minutes and 14 seconds. 9 plus 14? 23, or in Latin, Viginti Tres. This is just one example of how ridiculously obsessed Tool have become with including cryptic messages in their albums - indeed, the whole Lateralus album is in itself a puzzle, with the title track holding the solution. If only they would put that much effort into their music it would be even better than this:

1. Unexpect

Quebec's Unexpect are probably, in a musical sense, the most talented band of all time. Their instrumental co-ordination makes Tool look like amateurs, combining jagged metal rhythms with bizarre time signatures, classical organ motifs and clips of circus music. It's frantic, it's intense, it's all just too... much. What's a shame is that Unexpect are capable of producing beautiful music that stands quite well on its own. Take the piano solo Chromatic Chimera from the EP WE, Invaders:

That's a nice piece of music, right? But when the band re-recorded it as an album track for In a Flesh Aquarium, they just couldn't resist making it more complex:

There's a reason why the bands on this list are also ranked in order of worldwide fame. When you listen to music, you don't want to have to engage in stimulating thought all the time. Had Unexpect stuck with two chords and a bass solo, they could well be topping the charts right now. Sometimes, less is more.

TJGreenwood.

The 10 Most Inspired Cover Versions of All Time

The concept of cover versions is nothing new in the music world - even Elvis adapted a number of his biggest hits from previously recorded works by lesser-known artists. And yet every so often, an artist produces a cover that completely surpasses the original, either musically or thematically. Here are the 10 best, chosen not purely on merit, but rather due to their originality in reworking already great songs:

10. William Shatner - Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.

Originally by: The Beatles.

Star Trek fan or otherwise, it's hard to dislike the surreal precision with which William Shatner delivers the lyrics to some of the greatest songs ever written. As a result, his version of Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds comes across as far more bizarre and spaced out than The Beatles could ever make it sound. Try to watch the video without at least smiling - it just goes to show how absurd the pseudo-mystical poeticism of the original really was.

9. Imelda May - Tainted Love

Originally by: Soft Cell.

Imelda May sounds something like Amy Winehouse on steroids - all the soul and accomplished vocals, but played at a furious rockabilly tempo. Her cover of Soft Cell's '80s goth-pop classic transforms it from a depressing break-up tune to the war-cry of a devilish femme fatale, who couldn't care less about the man she has just left - she's simply moving onto her next kill.

8. Earth, Wind and Fire: Got to Get You Into My Life.

Originally by: The Beatles.

This funktastic effort by the spectacularly flamboyant Earth, Wind and Fire probably takes home the prize for the best ever Beatles cover. It picks up on the bouncy rhythm and catchy melody of the original and takes the tune to a stratospheric level, turning what was once a well-written pop song into a spectacular soul rendition. Although Paul McCartney deserves a lot of the credit for having produced such an inherently infectious song in the first place.

7. Evelyn Evelyn: Love Will Tear Us Apart.

Originally by: Joy Division. 

 A bit of background is necessary for this one - Evelyn Evelyn are supposedly a duo consisting of conjoined twins, singing and playing a variety of cabaret pieces in harmony. In reality, of course, they aren't - for a start, the two musicians are different genders. It does mean, however, that the song becomes a truly dark piece of humour, since if either of the twins falls in love, they will literally have to tear themselves apart. Also, it is undeniably a truly heartfelt performance of what is already a bleak eulogy for lost love.

6. Rammstein: Stripped.

Originally by: Depeche Mode.

This is a classic example of a song being rendered completely unrecognisable from its original form. Depeche Mode's slightly creepy ballad of desire becomes, in the hands of East Germany's teutonic metal lunatics, a crushing criticism on media control and post-communist confusion in their homeland, Till Lindermann's Wagnerian vocals taking it to operatic proportions. The video digs up another era of Germany's past, sampling Leni Riefentstahl's film of the 1936 Berlin Olympics.

5. The White Stripes: Death Letter.

Originally by: Son House.

It's debatable whether this actually counts as a cover, as the majority of Son House's work is now considered standard blues canon, but The White Stripes undeniably make this Depression-era tale of death and isolation their own. When performed live, Jack White showcases his slide playing at its best, battering the life of what is essentially an acoustic guitar and producing more sound than any one person should rightfully be able to. It's not a lament, it's a display of defiant anger directed at the cruelty of life.

4. Leon Russell: A Hard Rain's Gonna Fall.

Originally by: Bob Dylan.

Bob Dylan is unquestionably one of the greatest songwriters of the 20th Century, if not the very best. But when performing as a solo artist, he failed to match this with musical ability. As a result, much of his early work is pretty hard listening, with turgid guitar rhythms countered only by Dylan's often flat vocals. Enter Leon Russell: rock's archetypal southern gentleman may look like Gandalf, but he injects a much-needed boost into A Hard Rain's Gonna Fall, transforming it from a dirge into a righteous, soulful anthem on imminent nuclear warfare.

3. The Red Hot Chili Peppers: Higher Ground.

Originally by: Stevie Wonder.

There is little that hasn't already been said about both of the artists involved here. Stevie Wonder's plea for reason was in itself a technically impressive piece of music, showcasing his ear for electronic manipulation as well as complex rhythmic structures. The Chili Peppers had a solid enough foundation to work on, then, but certainly made the piece their own, from Flea's jaw-dropping introductory bassline to the en-masse chorus vocals to the furious thrash ending. Much like the above entry, it's a protest song given the kick it deserves thanks to the creative input of a musically superior artist.

2. Rodrigo y Garbiela: Stairway to Heaven.

Originally by: Led Zeppelin.

This cover is impressive not only on a musical basis, but also due to the fact that it's of one of the songs that literally every guitarist in the world can play. The virtuoso Mexican duo make it their own by starting out with a kind of classical cadenza, before moving onto free jazz and finishing off with aggressive rock. It's an entirely original reworking of a tune that has been done to death - and the fact that it has avoided coming under fire from Led Zeppelin fans (traditionally some of the most humourless people on the internet) is testament to its universal appeal.

1. Faith No More: Easy.

Originally by: Lionel Richie.

Mike Patton has covered a frankly ludicrous range of songs in his various incarnations, most of which have been performed only once, during live shows. It's generally agreed this habit was borne of a narcissistic desire to prove his ability to sing anything, which would be pretty objectionable were it not for the fact that he actually does have that ability. Easy was recorded as a single by Faith No More in 1993, during the period when they were beginning to leave the trail of being just another alternative rock group. What makes it brilliant is that it's not all that different to the original, and yet it's different enough that what was once a nicely-written easy listening tune becomes a world-weary declaration of resignation. Patton's voice soars effortlessly above the piano line, and by the time the guitar solo kicks in, the listener is left in no doubt that they have done the song justice. When covering a song called Easy, it makes sense that to do it well, you shouldn't be trying too hard.

TJGreenwood.